


Talon’s Lazy, Sunbeam Day

by Alfreds_Mustache



Series: Talon & Batfamily [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alfred has a list of acceptable swears, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Dick Grayson loves his family, Dick loves his cozy blanket, Former Talon Dick Grayson, One Shot, he also loves his family, he is a fluffy burrito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 12:28:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20724212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alfreds_Mustache/pseuds/Alfreds_Mustache
Summary: Talon observes and reflects on his surroundings while curled up under a sunbeam in the manor living room... wrapped like a burrito in a fluffy blanket that he may-or-may-not have stolen from Jason’s room.He’s alone with his thoughts, but far from lonely.(Because he has his family; and that’s what family’s for.)





	Talon’s Lazy, Sunbeam Day

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: If you recognise it, it’s not mine. All rights go to DC Comics.

Talon was having a sunbeam-day.

He was curled up on the living room floor like a lounging cat, beneath the window that overlooked the side garden. A navy-colored wool blanket hugged his body, making him look like a giant, lazy burrito. He smirked to himself, eyes closed as he basked in the sunlight’s soft glow, imagining the look on Jason’s face and his angry shouts of disbelief when he realizes that his favorite blanket is missing.

Jason wouldn’t be back for another two hours, though, so Talon had plenty of cuddle-time left with the blanket before he had to hide it strategically in one of the vents -- just to mess with Jason for fun, and not at all because Jason had decided that it was okay to eat the last box of Talon’s favorite cereal without telling anyone so that when Talon went downstairs to sneak a midnight snack (cereal) he literally cried in despair because all of his cereal was GONE and Alfred had to make him a cup of “emergency/crisis hot-cocoa” and promise to buy some more boxes in the morning to make Talon stop crying before he woke up the entire manor.

Nope, that was definitely not why Talon stole Jason’s blanket. Not at all.

The blanket absorbed all of the light streaming through the window, making Talon feel like a warm, gooey, lightly-toasted marshmallow. The thick wool was soft and warm against his pale cheeks and it pressed on him with just the right amount of pressure without making him feel trapped -- it was the inanimate equivalent of a hug. The manor wasn’t nearly as loud as it usually was at this time in the afternoon, his body wasn’t feeling the usual ‘uncomfortably cold’ that it always did, thanks to Jason’s blanket, and everyone he loved was where they were supposed to be -- safe.

He sighed. Everything, in that moment, was perfect. Things might not have been okay before, they might be worse later, and maybe they weren’t actually all that great right now.

But as Talon listened, silently breathing in the warm air of the manor, he could smell Alfred’s signature boeuf bourguignon broiling in handmade gravy inside the oven.

He could hear Tim, most likely in his room (on the second floor, so everything was muffled), listening to a podcast on his laptop about Gotham’s severe river-pollution problem, probably for no reason except that he was legitimately intrigued by the issue.

He could hear Damian, in the room next to Tim’s, blasting the song “Habanera,” from the opera Carmen, in order to drown out the noise of Tim’s (honestly quite boring) podcast while sharpening the blade of his katana.

He knew that Bruce -- Batman -- was currently at the Watchtower for the monthly JLA board meeting, amidst the only other people / martians / amazons / robots / etc. -- who weren’t members of his family -- that he knew he could trust with his life.

And Jason, similarly, was meeting up with the Rogues -- a group of notoriously chaotic-neutral / chaotic-good vigilantes ((all of whom Talon had, of course, thoroughly investigated (*stalked), questioned (*interrogated) and persuaded (*threatened) before letting Jason run off with them every once in a while)) -- for mandatory “Target-practice & Pizza Night” (held every Saturday) in a safe house just outside of Gotham’s city limits.

Talon closed his eyes.

Tim and Damian will always fight over the tiniest things, Bruce will always be late for dinner, Alfred will always reprimand Everyone for their improper behavior, Jason will always disagree with Bruce, and Talon will always feel like he doesn’t deserve any of them.

But that’s okay.

Because Jason will always distract Tim and Damian by suggesting (*insisting) that they all watch a Disney film together on the living room couch.

Because Alfred will always put an extra plate of that night’s dinner in the oven to stay warm until Bruce gets home from work.

Because Everyone will always show Alfred just how much they respect (*fear) him by using words like “fudge-nugget” and “pineapple-on-a-stick” and “son-of-a-Bisquick- waffle” in place of other, more... improper words.

Because Talon will always ask Jason to spar with him in the training room, instead of the Cave, so they can both let off some steam without Batman there to correct their form and technique.

Because Alfred and Tim and Jason and Damian and Bruce will always reassure Talon that he belongs here, with them, by letting him choose whether they watch Lilo and Stitch or The Little Mermaid, by trusting him with sharp kitchen utensils enough to let him help peel and chop vegetables for dinner, by holding him to the same -- though not unreasonable -- behavioral standards as the rest of them, by risking an inevitable rib-kick from him to make a joke about the way his hair stands up when he sweats. By accepting his presence among them -- as one of them -- despite what he is, despite what he’s done, despite his past mistakes -- some made longer ago than others -- and despite whether or not he believes he deserves it, because that’s family.

His family.

*Later...*

“PINEAPPLE ON A STICK ! Who the fudge-nugget stole my pancake-flippin’ BLANKET?! Whoever it was, I’ll hunt you down and sell you for parts on the Black Market, you sick son of a BISQUICK WAFFLE !! You hear me?? I’LL KILL YOU !!!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This is my first attempt at writing a talon!dick story, but I have loads more ideas!! Let me know in the comments what you thought or if there’s anything I can improve on, etc.!!!


End file.
